


they forgot how it feels to love (but I love you anyway)

by RowanQuinn



Series: on a scale of one to ten... [1]
Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I don't think this is sad, I'M HAPPY SO THIS IS HAPPY TOO, M/M, Romance, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, adorkability (is this even a word), and that's it, because after the marks people started forgetting how it feels to fall in love, but idk, but it's kinda distorted, for the first time in my whole life, minewt, they're adorkable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 07:23:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2842886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowanQuinn/pseuds/RowanQuinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were two boys playing something older people called “love”.<br/>(but they were just kids, and nobody knew what “love” was anymore)</p>
            </blockquote>





	they forgot how it feels to love (but I love you anyway)

**Author's Note:**

> That's it. This is my first text _ever_ where I didn't purposely put any angst in.  
>  i'M PROUD OF MYSELF
> 
> (and just because: the holidays are the sole reason why I haven't been doing nothing lately, but I promise that somewhere middle January I'll be back \o)  
> (and, y'know, answer the comments I still didn't answer ;__;)  
> [also, happy Christmas, people! For all of you who celebrate, and those who don't, too; it doesn't matter what's your religion, I want you to have a happy holiday nonetheless :D]

[ _nobody knows_  
 _what you really mean to me  
but_  
 _they could’ve guessed_  
 _by the way I look at you_ ]

They've never cared about what people thought of them. Even as the world — all black and white — turned their eyes to that two boys with identical marks on their wrists, they still held themselves together and kept going. Older people used to look at them in awe, saying something about a thing called “love”.  
But they were just kids, and nobody knew what “love” was anymore. Since that marks started showing up on people, they stopped feeling. There was no such as feeling as “love”. There was someone you were supposed to be with for the rest of your life, and that was it. The world kept spinning.  
But they… They were something different. Something special.

 

Minho would always smile when he was with Newt. He didn’t know why. He just would. There was something inside him — something warm, something _good_ — that would always make him feel like there were butterflies flying inside his stomach, that would always make his hands tremble slightly and his heart skip a beat. There was something about that boy that has always made him feel the most amazing way possible, and that was something he couldn’t understand.  
Until his 12th birthday, when the mark showed up.  
They were strange, intricate lines drawn in black and green over the soft skin of his wrist. Minho had traced it countless times, wondering what it was. He didn’t need to ask himself who had the same mark — he _knew_. Deep inside, he knew it was that tall, blond boy.  
Newt. The name was sweet in his mouth.  
Newt.

Said boy had a crappy way to deal with things. When they first talked and he saw that the marks matched, he lashed out. He was _angry_ , he was mad at Minho because _that was all his fault_. If he hadn’t those big brown eyes of his, and if he didn’t made Newt feel… _Happy_... Then none of it would’ve happened! _Take it back_ , he almost screamed. _Take it back, because I don’t want it, I don’t want to be like this, I don’t want to live like this_.  
Minho, though, was a stubborn brat who wouldn’t have left him for anything in the world — not now, not ever.

Somehow, somewhere along the way they stopped being just “Minho” and “Newt” to become “Minho and Newt”. Like a package. But even as the years kept passing through, they were still the same persons they were before. They looked at each other and they smiled — the warm fuzzy feeling still there.  
They were happy. They weren’t supposed to be. They weren’t supposed to feel, because no one felt. And yet, they did. They felt in a world that feelings were long forgotten. They fell in love in a world where “love” didn’t exist anymore.  
And this didn’t mean they wouldn’t go through dark times. It doesn’t mean they didn’t fight, they didn’t argue, they didn’t break. In fact, they were always breaking, falling apart. But they always found their way to each other, they always made it work. They were always fixing it because they shouldn’t know what love is, but they knew they loved each other and that was all they needed. And when the silence grew too dark, too lonely, too _cold_ for any of them to bear, they would hold each other’s hands. And Minho would look at Newt knowing this was all he’s ever needed, and Newt would look at Minho knowing they could never be apart because Minho is everything he’s ever wanted and never had it in him to ask.  
And then… Then they would talk.  
(because love is about silence, about understanding without words, but it's also about talking: about telling the beloved one what they really mean to you)  
“On a scale of one to ten…” Minho would stop, hesitating, holding his breath. “How much do you love me?”  
And then Newt would smile, that dazzling beautiful smile of his that made him look like a sunshine.  
“I love you in the size of the world!”¹  
And that always made everything worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> ¹when I was young, my mother used to ask me how much I loved her. That was always my answer. It's not the same context, of course, but what it counts is the intention. Newt wants to tell Minho that he loves him. I've wanted to tell my mom she was the most important person for me... Not that it's worked (and now I've just made myself sad). But, anyway. That's it. That's my sole explanation for this phrase.
> 
> [and just because of ~reasons: I'm still deciding if the series will be about them (like, I'll write oneshots or a longfic telling _this_ story in all its twists and everything), or if I'll write about other characters in this soulmate distorted world. Or both. If you want to tell me what would you like to see me writing, you're always welcome to voice your opinion :3]


End file.
